I picked the meter to fit the chorus to the song “‍Dreamcatcher‍” by Anne Hills

Untitled Poem

I sit down with my well-worn pen and draw a man;
I have a thought of what he will be but it’s no real plan.
There’s strokes I draw that are not quite right, but this ink will last
So on I go, just adding to what’s past.

The pen is action, each stoke a choice that I choose to make.
Without those choices there’d just be scribbles as my hand shakes.
Its true some choices do leave a mark I’m not glad to see,
But each one becomes part of me.